The Queen's Necklace

CHAPTER XXXI.

HOW TWO FRIENDS BECAME ENEMIES

Aldegonde, however, had gone to fetch the guard; but before she returned they had had time to light a fire with the first numbers, and were throwing them in, one after another, as quickly as possible, when the guard appeared, followed by a crowd of ragged men, women, and boys.

Happily, Philippe and Charny knew Reteau's secret exit, so when they caught sight of the guard they made their escape through it, carrying the key with them.

Then Reteau began crying "Murder!" while Aldegonde, seeing the flames through the window, cried "Fire!"

The soldiers arrived, but finding the young men gone, and the house not on fire, went away again, leaving Reteau to bathe his bruises. But the crowd lingered about all day, hoping to see a renewal of the fun.

When Taverney and Charny found themselves in the Rue Vieux Augustins, "Monsieur," said Charny, "now we have finished that business, can I be of any use to you?"

"Thanks, sir, I was about to ask you the same question."

"Thank you, but I have private business which will probably keep me in Paris all day."

"Permit me, then, to take leave of you; I am happy to have met you."

"And I you, sir;" and the two young men bowed, but it was easy to see that all this courtesy went no further than the lips.

Philippe went towards the boulevards, while Charny turned to the river; each turned two or three times till he thought himself quite out of sight, but after walking for some time Charny entered the Rue Neuve St. Gilles, and there once more found himself face to face with Philippe.

Each had again the same idea of demanding satisfaction from the Count de Cagliostro. They could not now doubt each other's intentions, so Philippe said:

"I left you the seller, leave me the buyer; I left you the cane, leave me the sword."

"Sir," replied Charny, "you left it to me simply because I came first, and for no other reason."

"Well," replied Taverney, "here we arrive both together, and I will make no concession."

"I did not ask you for any, sir; only I will defend my right."

"And that, according to you, M. de Charny, is to make M. de Cagliostro burn his thousand copies."

"Remember, sir, that it was my idea to burn the others."

"Then I will have these torn."

"Monsieur, I am sorry to tell you that I wish to have the first turn with M. de Cagliostro."

"All that I can agree to, sir, is to take our chance. I will throw up a louis, and whoever guesses right shall be first."

"Thanks, sir, but I am not generally lucky, and should probably lose," and he stepped towards the door.

Charny stopped him.

"Stay, sir, we will soon understand each other."

"Well, sir?" answered Philippe, turning back.

"Then, before asking satisfaction of M. de Cagliostro, suppose we take a turn in the Bois de Boulogne: it will be out of our way, but perhaps we can settle our dispute there. One of us will probably be left behind, and the other be uninterrupted."

"Really, monsieur," said Philippe, "you echo my own thoughts – where shall we meet?"

"Well, if my society be not insupportable to you, we need not part. I ordered my carriage to wait for me in the Place Royale, close by here."

"Then you will give me a seat?" said Philippe.

"With the greatest pleasure;" and they walked together to the carriage, and getting in, set off for the Champs Elysées.

First, however, Charny wrote a few words on his tablets, and gave them to the footman to take to his hotel.

In less than half an hour they reached the Bois de Boulogne. The weather was lovely, and the air delightful, although the power of the sun was already felt: the fresh leaves were appearing on the trees, and the violets filled the place with their perfume.

"It is a fine day for our promenade, is it not, M. de Taverney?" said Charny.

"Beautiful, sir."

"You may go," said Charny to his coachman.

"Are you not wrong, sir, to send away your carriage? – one of us may need it."

"No, sir," replied Charny; "in this affair secrecy before everything, and once in the knowledge of a servant, we risk it being talked of all over Paris to-morrow."

"As you please, but do you think the fellow does not know what he came here for? These people know well what brings two gentlemen to the Bois de Boulogne, and even if he did not feel sure now, he will perhaps afterwards see one of us wounded, and will have no doubts left then. Is it not then better to keep him here to take back either who shall need him, than to be left, or leave me here, wounded and alone?"

"You are right, monsieur," replied Charny; and, turning to the coachman, he said, "No, stop, Dauphin; you shall wait here."

Dauphin remained accordingly, and as he perfectly guessed what was coming, he arranged his position, so as to see through the still leafless trees all that passed.

They walked on a little way, then Philippe said, "I think, M. de Charny, this is a good place."

"Excellent, monsieur," said Charny, and added: "Chevalier, if it were any one but you, I would say one word of courtesy, and we were friends again; but to you, coming from America, where they fight so well, I cannot."

"And I, sir, to you, who the other evening gained the admiration of an entire court by a glorious feat of arms, can only say, M. le Comte, do me the honor to draw your sword."

"Monsieur," said Charny, "I believe we have neither of us touched on the real cause of quarrel."

"I do not understand you, comte."

"Oh! you understand me perfectly, sir; and you blush while you deny it."

"Defend yourself," cried Philippe; their swords crossed. Philippe soon perceived that he was superior to his adversary, and therefore became as calm as though he had been only fencing, and was satisfied with defending himself without attacking.

"You spare me, sir," said Charny; "may I ask why?"

Philippe went on as before; Charny grew warm, and wished to provoke him from this sang froid, therefore he said:

"I told you, sir, that we had not touched on the real cause of the quarrel."

Philippe did not reply.

"The true cause," continued Charny, "why you sought a quarrel, for it was you who sought it, was, that you were jealous of me."

Still Philippe remained silent.

"What is your intention?" again said Charny. "Do you wish to tire my arm? that is a calculation unworthy of you. Kill me if you can, but do not dally thus."

"Yes, sir," replied Philippe at last, "your reproach is just; the quarrel did begin with me, and I was wrong."

"That is not the question now. You have your sword in your hand; use it for something more than mere defense."

"Monsieur," said Philippe, "I have the honor to tell you once more I was wrong, and that I apologize."

But Charny was by this time too excited to appreciate the generosity of his adversary. "Oh!" said he, "I understand; you wish to play the magnanimous with me; that is it, is it not, chevalier? You wish to relate to the ladies this evening how you brought me here, and then spared my life."

"Count," said Philippe, "I fear you are losing your senses."

"You wish to kill M. de Cagliostro to please the queen; and, for the same reason, you wish to turn me into ridicule."

"Ah! this is too much," cried Philippe, "and proves to me that you have not as generous a heart as I thought."

"Pierce it then," cried Charny, exposing himself as Philippe made another pass.

The sword glanced along his ribs, and the blood flowed rapidly.

"At last," cried Charny, "I am wounded. Now I may kill you if I can."

"Decidedly," said Philippe, "you are mad. You will not kill me – you will only be disabled without cause, and without profit; for no one will ever know for what you have fought;" and as Charny made another pass, he dexterously sent his sword flying from his hand; then, seizing it, he broke it across his foot. "M. de Charny," said he, "you did not require to prove to me that you were brave; you must therefore detest me very much when you fight with such fury."

Charny did not reply, but grew visibly pale, and then tottered.

Philippe advanced to support him, but he repulsed him, saying, "I can reach my carriage."

"At least take this handkerchief to stop the blood."

"Willingly."

"And my arm, sir; at the least obstacle you met you would fall, and give yourself unnecessary pain."

"The sword has only penetrated the skin. I hope soon to be well."

"So much the better, sir; but I warn you, that you will find it difficult to make me your adversary again."

Charny tried to reply, but the words died on his lips. He staggered, and Philippe had but just time to catch him in his arms, and bear him half fainting to his carriage.

Dauphin, who had seen what had passed, advanced to meet him, and they put Charny in.

"Drive slowly," said Philippe, who then took his way back to Paris, murmuring to himself, with a sigh, "She will pity him."

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE HOUSE IN THE RUE ST. GILLES

Philippe jumped into the first coach he saw, and told the man to drive to the Rue St. Gilles, where he stopped at the house of M. de Cagliostro.

A large carriage, with two good horses, was standing in the courtyard; the coachman was asleep, wrapped in a greatcoat of fox-skins, and two footmen walked up and down before the door.

"Does the Count Cagliostro live here?" asked Philippe.

"He is just going out."

"The more reason to be quick, for I wish to speak to him first. Announce the Chevalier Philippe de Taverney;" and he followed the men up-stairs.

"Ask him to walk in," said, from within, a voice at once manly and gentle.

"Excuse me, sir," said the chevalier to a man whom we have already seen, first at the table of M. de Richelieu, then at the exhibition of M. Mesmer, in Oliva's room, and with her at the Opera ball.

"For what, sir?" replied he.

"Because I prevent you from going out."

"You would have needed an excuse had you been much later, for I was waiting for you."

"For me?"

"Yes, I was forewarned of your visit."

"Of my visit?"

"Yes; two hours ago. It is about that time, is it not, since you were coming here before, when an interruption caused you to postpone the execution of your project?"

Philippe began to experience the same strange sensation with which this man inspired every one.

"Sit down, M. de Taverney," continued he; "this armchair was placed for you."

"A truce to pleasantry, sir," said Philippe, in a voice which he vainly tried to render calm.

"I do not jest, sir."

"Then a truce to charlatanism. If you are a sorcerer, I did not come to make trial of your skill; but if you are, so much the better, for you must know what I am come to say to you."

"Oh, yes, you are come to seek a quarrel."

"You know that? perhaps you also know why?"

"On account of the queen. Now, sir, I am ready to listen;" and these last words were no longer pronounced in the courteous tones of a host, but in the hard and dry ones of an adversary.

"Sir, there exists a certain publication."

"There are many publications," said Cagliostro.

"Well, this publication to-day was written against the queen."

Cagliostro did not reply.

"You know what I refer to, count?"

"Yes, sir."

"You have bought one thousand copies of it?"

"I do not deny it."

"Luckily, they have not reached your hands."

"What makes you think so, sir?"

"Because I met the porter, paid him, and sent him with them to my house; and my servant, instructed by me, will destroy them."

"You should always finish yourself the work you commence, sir. Are you sure these thousand copies are at your house?"

"Certainly."

"You deceive yourself, sir; they are here. Ah, you thought that I, sorcerer that I am, would let myself be foiled in that way. You thought it a brilliant idea to buy off my messenger. Well, I have a steward, and you see it is natural for the steward of a sorcerer to be one also. He divined that you would go to the journalist, and that you would meet my messenger, whom he afterwards followed, and threatened to make him give back the gold you had given him, if he did not follow his original instructions, instead of taking them to you. But I see you doubt."

"I do."

"Look, then, and you will believe;" and, opening an oak cabinet, he showed the astonished chevalier the thousand copies lying there.

Philippe approached the count in a menacing attitude, but he did not stir. "Sir," said Philippe, "you appear a man of courage; I call upon you to give me immediate satisfaction."

"Satisfaction for what?"

"For the insult to the queen, of which you render yourself an accomplice while you keep one number of this vile paper."

"Monsieur," said Cagliostro, "you are in error; I like novelties, scandalous reports, and other amusing things, and collect them, that I may remember at a later day what I should otherwise forget."

"A man of honor, sir, does not collect infamies."

"But, if I do not think this an infamy?"

"You will allow at least that it is a lie."

"You deceive yourself, sir. The queen was at M. Mesmer's."

"It is false, sir."

"You mean to tell me I lie?"

"I do."

"Well, I will reply in a few words – I saw her there."

"You saw her!"

"As plainly as I now see you."

Philippe looked full at Cagliostro. "I still say, sir, that you lie."

Cagliostro shrugged his shoulders, as though he were talking to a madman.

"Do you not hear me, sir?" said Philippe.

"Every word."

"And do you not know what giving the lie deserves?"

"Yes, sir; there is a French proverb which says it merits a box on the ears."

"Well, sir, I am astonished that your hand has not been already raised to give it, as you are a French gentleman, and know the proverb."

"Although a French gentleman, I am a man, and love my brother."

"Then you refuse me satisfaction?"

"I only pay what I owe."

"Then you will compel me to take satisfaction in another manner."

"How?"

"I exact that you burn the numbers before my eyes, or I will proceed with you as with the journalist."

"Oh! a beating," said Cagliostro, laughing.

"Neither more nor less, sir. Doubtless you can call your servants."

"Oh, I shall not call my servants; it is my own business. I am stronger than you, and if you approach me with your cane, I shall take you in my arms and throw you across the room, and shall repeat this as often as you repeat your attempt."

"Well, M. Hercules, I accept the challenge," said Philippe, throwing himself furiously upon Cagliostro, who, seizing him round the neck and waist with a grasp of iron, threw him on a pile of cushions, which lay some way off, and then remained standing as coolly as ever.

Philippe rose as pale as death. "Sir," said he, in a hoarse voice, "you are in fact stronger than I am, but your logic is not as strong as your arm; and you forgot, when you treated me thus, that you gave me the right to say, 'Defend yourself, count, or I will kill you.'"

Cagliostro did not move.

"Draw your sword, I tell you, sir, or you are a dead man."

"You are not yet sufficiently near for me to treat you as before, and I will not expose myself to be killed by you, like poor Gilbert."

"Gilbert!" cried Philippe, reeling back. "Did you say Gilbert?"

"Happily you have no gun this time, only a sword."

"Monsieur," cried Philippe, "you have pronounced a name – "

"Which has awakened a terrible echo in your remembrance, has it not? A name that you never thought to hear again, for you were alone with the poor boy, in the grotto of Açores, when you assassinated him."

"Oh!" said Philippe, "will you not draw?"

"If you knew," said Cagliostro, "how easily I could make your sword fly from your hand!"

"With your sword?"

"Yes, with my sword, if I wished."

"Then try."

"No, I have a still surer method."

"For the last time, defend yourself," said Philippe, advancing towards him.

Then the count took from his pocket a little bottle, which he uncorked, and threw the contents in Philippe's face. Scarcely had it touched him, when he reeled, let his sword drop, and fell senseless.

Cagliostro picked him up, put him on a sofa, waited for his senses to return, and then said, "At your age, chevalier, we should have done with follies; cease, therefore, to act like a foolish boy, and listen to me."

Philippe made an effort to shake off the torpor which still held possession of him, and murmured, "Oh, sir, do you call these the weapons of a gentleman?"

Cagliostro shrugged his shoulders. "You repeat forever the same word," he said; "when we of the nobility have opened our mouths wide enough to utter the word gentleman, we think we have said everything. What do you call the weapons of a gentleman? Is it your sword, which served you so badly against me, or is it your gun, which served you so well against Gilbert? What makes some men superior to others? Do you think that it is that high-sounding word gentleman? No; it is first reason, then strength, most of all, science. Well, I have used all these against you. With my reason I braved your insults, with my strength I conquered yours, and with my science I extinguished at once your moral and physical powers. Now I wish to show you that you have committed two faults in coming here with menaces in your mouth. Will you listen to me?"

"You have overpowered me," replied Philippe; "I can scarcely move. You have made yourself master of my muscles and of my mind, and then you ask me if I will listen!"

Then Cagliostro took down from the chimney-piece another little gold phial. "Smell this, chevalier," said he.

Philippe obeyed, and it seemed to him that the cloud which hung over him dispersed. "Oh, I revive!" he cried.

"And you feel free and strong?"

"Yes."

"With your full powers and memory of the past?"

"Yes."

"Then this memory gives me an advantage over you."

"No," said Philippe, "for I acted in defense of a vital and sacred principle."